Lager of the week — Freedom Four

Here we are, another lager of the week, one that several people have already blogged about, but what the hell (es). I think Freedom have it under trial at the moment but I reckon it’s good enough to be out there soon. In the glass it’s exceedingly pale, like it’s seen a ghost. First thoughts on taking a sniff is that it’s a Helles, has that grainy cereal Weetabix character to it, a canvas for lemony notes to add some colour. Resiny, pungent hop notes appear on the nose as well; they’re  not in your face but fresh and sensual. It’s crisp and fresh on the palate with lemon citrus, breakfast cereal notes; zesty and refreshing; grainy, dusty finish reminiscent of a dry barn in the summer when it hasn’t rained for a while. Gentle carbonation, absolutely delicious. Oh and if you haven’t guessed, it’s 4%. As lager of the week does not always have to have the judgement call, the next one will be a fully considered tasting of the tosh my mate Herby drinks, Carlsberg, the one with what feels like a can of Jolly Green Giant on the nose and a finish as quick as the guillotine blade on some sap’s head during the rule of the Committee of Public Safety in 1793 (which makes me wonder — was there any beer in the French Revolution? I know Napoleon’s troops are supposed to have referred to Berliner Weisse as the champagne of the North, but what was the tipple of choice in and around Calais, was beer unpatriotic?). Now if you must excuse me I must get back to Christopher Andrew’s The Defence of the Realm, which incidentally has a quote from Protzy on page 660 (and he’s not talking about beer).

Lager of the week — Freedom Organic Dark Lager

Not so sure about the presentation, clear glass bottle, 330ml size, beer has an almost cherry red glow to it, pours with a good head, almost off white, beneath which toffee, near-vanilla and even the faintest memory of cherry brandy aromas arise; warming and soothing though not the sort of warming that suggests a big bonfire of the vanities (or bonfire toffee for that matter), more like a hug from someone you love. Soft and sweet on the palate with a bitter and dry finish; some sweetness retained in the finish. There’s also an earthiness that I like, presumably from the hop, which is — well I don’t know and does it matter? I’m getting a Jacob’s Cracker-like crispness and dryness on the palate, which would suggest pairing it with cheese, so I try it with a creamy, salty, sweaty Devon blue, but all it did was vanish totally in its embrace, though a fragrant note I hadn’t noticed before emerged; but it wasn’t hideous, it just didn’t enhance either, so drink alone (or drink with friends). It’s not in a Bohemian dark tradition, neither a Vienna amber one, rather it’s a British craft lager tradition of ‘let’s see what happens when we add crystal and caramalt’ to our pilsner. Good work lads.